


All's Well That Ends Well

by ravenclawkohai



Category: Final Fantasy VII
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-01
Updated: 2017-02-01
Packaged: 2018-09-21 06:13:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9535334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ravenclawkohai/pseuds/ravenclawkohai
Summary: Sefikura + "How can anyone not be afraid of love?"





	

               This was not what he had been expecting. In fact, it was the last thing he had been expecting.

               It had been around six months since their relationship began. It started out more fragile than most, both could admit to that. Cloud had been uncertain, hesitant, too afraid of rejection or dismissal to voice his needs, wants, or concerns. Sephiroth had demanded too much, been emotionally distant, afraid to be vulnerable. They miscommunicated, hurt each other’s feelings, failed to consider that the other might want or need something they didn’t. The whole thing damn near fell apart when Cloud had fled Sephiroth’s apartment, near tears, and run into Zack, who had been on his way to his own apartment. Cloud had intended to do what he always did when Sephiroth hurt him: suffer in silence and bury his feelings. Zack refused to have it. It took a night full of prying before he got Cloud to open up, but when he did, it came with tears. Zack had no idea their relationship had gone so wrong, but he knew that both were invested and wanted to make it work; they just didn’t know how.

               Zack had done what he considered to be out of bounds when it came to relationships: he interfered. He sat the two down and told Cloud to be honest with Sephiroth or he would do it for him. Though he stared at his hands the whole time and stumbled over his words, Cloud managed to get out the hundred ways Sephiroth hurt him in measures, the small things that wore him down to the big issues that weighed on him like lead.  

               Sephiroth had done what Zack had never witnessed: he apologized. In fact, he apologized profusely. He explained his difficulties with socializing, how he almost always missed cues, that he never intended to hurt Cloud but he simply couldn’t tell that he had. That things had to be spelled out for him or he would never know to fix them.

               The conversation worked out better than Zack had dared to hope. Though it took a few fumbling starts, they learned to communicate, and when they did, their relationship flourished. Trust formed. Cloud still struggled with feeling inferior, but he stopped doubting that he was wanted. Sephiroth still struggled with displaying affection, but he stopped doubting that Cloud wanted him for him, instead of wanting him for his title. They learned over the next six months. They grew. If Zack hadn’t witnessed it, he would never have believed a relationship so grounded in trust, communication, and support could have had such a rocky start. But there they were, defying the odds and thriving in spite of them.

               Cloud had never felt so safe, so cared for as he did with Sephiroth. Though the man still struggled to pick up on his hints and likely always would, he was thoughtful, doting, and supportive without ever pushing. He understood that Cloud needed affection to know he was wanted, that when presented with harsh tones and biting words, the blond never failed to take the blame on himself, regardless of how misplaced it might be. He understood when Cloud refused to accept his help in the workplace, that he needed to prove himself or anything he achieved wouldn’t matter. He understood that the little things mattered to Cloud, how a brief text, a small gift, a compliment here and there were sometimes the best way to show the blond that he cared.

               Sephiroth, conversely, had never trusted someone as much as he did Cloud. He was close with Zack, always trusted the man to have his back, was honest with him in a way he was with very few, but what he shared with Cloud was different. He was used to always presenting a stoic front, never admitting weakness, never being vulnerable. Yet he trusted Cloud with his secrets, with the past he always hid, with his struggles with his own humanity. Cloud understood when he needed time to himself, when he became overwhelmed with affection because he was so unaccustomed to it, when he _needed_ affection for the very same reason. He understood when Sephiroth wanted to share his thoughts, feelings, history but simply couldn’t get the words out for all their sharp, jagged edges. He understood when Sephiroth became so laser focused that all else fell by the wayside, be it his own physical needs or Cloud’s emotional needs, that it was never intentional, that all he had to do was find the nerve to interrupt and Sephiroth would readily come back to him, that he would apologize for his inattention and promise to do better.

               While Zack was the only one aware of their relationship, was the only one around them when they were together, was in fact a romantic himself, even he thought they could get tooth-rottingly sweet.

               Which is why this felt to Cloud like a slap in the face.

               In fact, he looked like that was what had just happened.

               “Seph?” he said, hesitant, finally finding his voice again.

               The last thing he had expected when admitting he loved Sephiroth was for the man to blurt, “No,” and jump to his feet.

               Sephiroth just shook his head.

               Cloud rose to his feet slowly, trying to reassure himself that there must have been some misunderstanding, that after everything Sephiroth didn’t look horrified, as if his love was something toxic, disgusting.

               If his hands trembled, he was hid it well.

               “Sephir—”

               “I think you should leave,” Sephiroth interrupted. He had yet to meet Cloud’s eye, just staring straight ahead with that appalled look on his face.

               “Seph, I just—”

               “Please.”

               Cloud stared at him, waited for him to change his mind, to at least let them _talk_ about this. But he just stood and stared.

               Eventually, Cloud took the hint. He gathered his jacket and scarf, slid his boots back on, and left without another word.

               He felt horrible. He felt sick to his stomach. Was that how Sephiroth was feeling? Sickened, that someone like Cloud dared to love him? What had the last six months been, if this was the way Sephiroth felt on the matter? He could have handled Sephiroth not returning the sentiment—he had already considered it, after all, Sephiroth had had to learn how to display affection,  thought that at the worst it would take some time, but that in the end, he felt the same. Cloud felt as if the rug had just been yanked out from under him. The entire way back to the barracks, all he could think was, “What did I do wrong?”

               He didn’t sleep that night. He replayed the conversation over dozens of times. He replayed all the sweet and bitter moments, reviewed how far they had come, tried to see what he must have missed for things to turn out this way. He could find nothing. His only conclusion was that he must have been a passing fancy, something to occupy the time, a trial run in affection, a learning tool. Sephiroth had grown from their relationship, and maybe that was all he wanted out of it. Maybe he never intended this to be permanent. Cloud would just have to accept that, even if it killed him to do. There was nothing else to be done. He had been overconfident. He had gambled and lost big.

               If he cried that night, it was late into the night, and quiet; no one noticed a thing.

               Of course no one in the barracks noticed—no one in the barracks noticed _him_. No one cared.

               What he should have expected was for _Zack_ to notice.

               It took almost a week, but he still should have expected it. His friend had been quiet, uncharacteristically so. When he had invited Sephiroth and Cloud out to lunch the first day, both offered excuses; Sephiroth that he had work, Cloud that he was tired from infantry training. The second time he invited them out, both refused again. Sephiroth, again, fell back onto his work, Cloud saying he felt sick. The third time, Cloud couldn’t think of an excuse. He agreed to go and prayed that Sephiroth wouldn’t.

               His prayer was fulfilled: yet again, Sephiroth had paperwork.

               That was, however, one of the longest lunches of Cloud’s life.

               Zack had taken him out to his favorite Wutaian restaurant—Sephiroth always said he had had too much Wutaian during the war and had no taste for it now, so it had become a place Zack and Cloud only frequented together. Zack had even offered to pay for Cloud’s food since going out had been his idea and he knew full well the kind of money infantrymen earned. Yet despite what had the makings of a good meal together, Cloud was inexplicably distant. He toyed with his food instead of eating, only ever picking at it. He kept his head down, his eyes on his plate. He looked pale, and it almost looked like his hands were shaking—he was certainly fumbling more with his chopsticks than usual. Zack chalked it up to a rough week (after all, he was sick the day before), and let it slide.

               It was their second lunch that started raising flags for Zack. _Again_ , Sephiroth turned down the invitation. Zack knew full well that, after patching up the rocky start to their relationship, Sephiroth was loathe to turn down chances to be with Cloud, even when they did have their third wheel. All of his invitations had come through a group text between the three of them; Sephiroth knew that Cloud was invited, that he had even attended the last time. In spite of the fact that Sephiroth had long since learned how to make time for Cloud, paperwork stood between them again. As if that wasn’t enough of a signal, it was certainly obvious when Cloud behaved the exact same way he had the day before.  He looked outright downtrodden. Something was wrong.

               When Sephiroth refused his fifth invitation, Zack was certain there was a problem, and it involved his two closest friends. Cloud had taken half an hour to answer, hoping that Sephiroth would answer first, but had eventually agreed to lunch again. It had only been minutes after Cloud’s reply that Sephiroth refused. Zack had had enough.

               “Zack, how many times do I have to tell you to _knock_?” Sephiroth bit, not even looking up from his computer.

               “I don’t know, how many times do you plan on turning me down?” Zack said, dropping into the seat across from Sephiroth. The light, jovial air he usually brought with him was clearly lacking. It was enough to draw Sephiroth’s eye from his work, just long enough to scrutinize, to confirm what he heard, before looking away again.

               “I told you, Zack; I’m busy,” Sephiroth said, still tapping away at his keyboard.

               “You’ve been busy five days running, Sephiroth,” Zack answered, tone flat. They both knew he would have usually called him “Seph” in that moment. Something was wrong and Sephiroth, despite not wanting to see it, couldn’t help but notice.

               “I have deadlines, you know,” Sephiroth countered. They both knew it was only a matter of time before the farce fell. Sephiroth was determined to stretch it as far as it could go; he had no idea what he would say when it dropped.

               “You’ve always had deadlines, but you haven’t acted like this in months,” Zack said, crossing his arms.

               “Did you consider that my deadlines might have become tighter? Workloads fluctuate, Zack,” Sephiroth bit, an edge sliding into his tone as he hit the enter key with too much aggression.

               “No, but I did consider that you’re full of shit,” Zack said. It was enough to draw Sephiroth’s eye from his work. “Come on, Seph, you know you can talk to me.”

               “Perhaps this is personal,” Sephiroth answered, looking back at his screen but not beginning to type again.

               “Who else would you talk about personal shit with?” Zack asked. The answer was Cloud. They both knew the answer was Cloud; it was only a question of whether or not Sephiroth would admit to it.

               His lips pursed into a line.

               He began typing again.

               “You can’t expect me to always want to discuss every personal matter,” Sephiroth said, a cool, distant air to his tone. One that Zack hadn’t heard in a while.

               “What I _used to_ be able to expect is that if you wouldn’t talk to me, you would talk to Cloud,” Zack said, watching as Sephiroth flinched at the name. “But you’ve been ignoring him even more than you have me, haven’t you?”

               “I fail to see how that’s any of your business,” Sephiroth countered.

               Zack reached forward and shut the laptop’s lid on Sephiroth’s hands.

               “If you’d seen the look on Cloud’s face recently, you’d know it damn well is my business,” Zack said, a hard edge to his tone. “You can’t treat him like that and not expect me to ask questions.”

               “I can very well expect that—it isn’t your relationship.”

               “It doesn’t have to be,” Zack shot back. “That boy’s like a brother to me—you hurt him, you get questions. Now spill, what the hell happened?”

               Sephiroth sat straighter, looking at Zack with pure derision.

               “So that’s what this comes to? At the first sign of trouble, you abandon our friendship, and I become the villain?” Sephiroth answered. It was a cheap shot. He knew it. Zack knew it, if the way he straightened up, looked affronted was any indication.

               “You know damn well that’s not what’s happening here,” Zack said, hands balling into fists on his lap.

               “Then what _is_ happening here? Enlighten me.”

               “What I _thought_ was happening here,” Zack bit, “was that you fucked up and missed some hint Cloud dropped but didn’t explain. I _thought_ you made a mistake, didn’t realize at the time, but were too proud to admit to it after everything had gone so well for so long, and started ignoring the problem. But _clearly_ , you know damn well what you did and aren’t sorry at all. So are you gonna tell me, or do I have to go and pull it out of Cloud?”

               “Perhaps your _brother_ ,” Sephiroth sneered, “would be more talkative.”

               A look of outrage, of indignation stole over Zack’s face as he sprung to his feet. He stormed to the door and slammed it behind him hard enough to rattle the hinges.

               Sephiroth stared at the door for longer than he intended before sighing and dropping his face into his hands.

               Why did he always have to make bad situations worse?

 

               Sephiroth was right on one front. Cloud _was_ more talkative. But having to pull it out of him was like pulling teeth, and watching the blond as he spoke hurt Zack to the core.

               Cloud had come a long way since he had begun seeing Sephiroth. Some of the man’s confidence had rubbed off on the blond. He knew he was cared for, that he was wanted, that he had a place beside both Zack and Sephiroth. He was less timid, spoke more freely and less quietly. He lost that constant look of fear, like he knew he was going to say something wrong and be abandoned and it was only a matter of when.

               It broke Zack’s heart to see him back to square one.

               For Gaia’s sake, he wouldn’t even look him in the eye.

               “He just… stood there,” Cloud finished, having mumbled the entire story, staring adamantly at his own hands. “He looked horrified—almost disgusted with the idea. I tried to tell him that he didn’t have to say it back, that he didn’t need to, but he wouldn’t hear it. He just told me to leave. So I left.”

               “Oh _Cloud_ ,” Zack said, pulling the blond to him. Cloud’s hands fisted in the back of his shirt, his face pressed to Zack’s chest. He could he was doing his best not to cry.

               “I just don’t know what I did _wrong_ ,” he said, voice cracking on the word. “Everything had been going so well, I just—just must have been the only one who cared from the start. I just wish he had _told_ me. I could have been happy like that, I could have just loved him and expected nothing back, just—why did he have to get my hopes up?”

               “No, Cloud,” Zack said, holding the blond closer. “You deserve better than that. We’ll get this sorted out, I promise, alright? Everything will be okay.”

               Cloud just shook his head.

               “Nothing’s ever going to be okay again.”

               The way that he sounded so sure, so dead _certain_ , so _hopeless_ cut Zack to pieces.

 

               Zack had no idea what to do, and didn’t seem to be getting one any time soon. This was a difficult situation, hopefully a big misunderstanding, but he had no idea how to solve it. All he knew was that the two seemed to want nothing but to stay away from each other.

               So, the only reasonable next step, seemed to be getting them together.

               Zack had gone to Sephiroth’s office in the evening, double checking with his secretary that he had left for the day. He had talked to Cloud earlier, knew he was finishing guard duty now. He had invited him to his apartment for a movie night, carefully not promising that it would just be the two of them. Cloud had seemed reluctant but agreed, said that he would head over once he was off duty. Careful to time things right, Zack texted Sephiroth with fifteen minutes to spare.

               “Hey, sorry about the fight yesterday. Could you come to my place so we can talk? I promise I won’t argue this time,” his text read.

               It took ten minutes for Sephiroth to respond, “I’ll be there shortly.”

               Now it was just a matter of praying that the timing would work right.

               As he had hoped, Sephiroth let himself into Zack’s apartment, as was usual (they had long since exchanged key cards), with about three minutes to spare. He had changed from his uniform into black jeans and a gray tee shirt, his usual, inspired color palette. At least he didn’t show up dressed for a fight.

               “Come on in,” Zack called from the kitchen. “Make yourself at home.”

               Sephiroth settled on the couch, but sat on the edge of the seat the way he usually did upon first arriving at Zack’s apartment. It usually took an hour of slow progressions for him to sit back and seem comfortable. Zack only prayed it wouldn’t give him leverage to pop to his feet and storm out before he could stop him.

               Zack was coming around the corner from the kitchen to the living room when there was a knock on the door. Sephiroth stiffened. For a second, the two locked eyes.

               “ _Zack_ ,” Sephiroth warned.

               He was ignored.

               Zack opened the door to allow Cloud in. Though it felt wrong to take advantage of the situation, Zack was quietly glad that Cloud’s eyes were downcast as he entered the room. He didn’t see Sephiroth in time to bolt, but Sephiroth was allowed a long look at his own handiwork.

               There was no way around it; it would have tugged on the heartstrings of even a stranger to see the blond. His eyes were turned toward the ground, his shoulders slumped. He wrung his hands in front of himself. Any confidence he had found in the last six months had long since abandoned him. Sephiroth had seen him hesitant, had seen him unsure of himself and his place, unconvinced he was wanted. But now the blond looked sure he was unwanted, that he didn’t belong in the space, that any time he had there was borrowed and, when he was inevitably kicked out, it would come as no surprise. Even the anger at his own dejection that Cloud had had in Nibelheim left him. He had left himself too vulnerable, had been too trusting, and was paying dearly for it now.

               The look on Sephiroth’s face quickly softened.

               Zack gently ushered Cloud inside and out of the doorway, was about to speak when the cadet looked up. His eyes met Sephiroth’s. He froze.

               “Zack,” Cloud said, voice faltering. He took a step back. He looked afraid, and if Sephiroth hadn’t felt guilty before, he certainly was now.

               Zack looped one arm around the blond and held him firm.

               “I’m going to step outside,” Zack said slowly, looking between the two—he wasn’t sure if he was relieved or disappointed to see that Cloud had looked down again, seemed to be hunched further over. “I’m going to stand outside the door, and I’m not going to move until you two convince me that you’ve settled this. Understood?”

               Both nodded silently.

               Zack gave Cloud’s shoulder a comforting squeeze before he stepped away and exited the apartment.

 

               The silence hung in the air, thick and heavy. Cloud didn’t have the courage to break it—he was too busy staring at his own toes, praying that Sephiroth would just get up and brush passed him like he was bound to, that he would open the door and haggle with Zack until the issue was dropped. Cloud was mortified at his own gall when he had started this problem in the first place. He didn’t dare try to fix it now—it was clear things were beyond repair.

               It was why he was so surprised when Sephiroth sighed and called, “Cloud, come sit down.”

               He looked up in alarm.

               He didn’t quite know what look he had expected on Sephiroth’s face. Anger, perhaps, at least irritation, perhaps boredom. Certainly not the frown, the wrinkle between his brows, the way guilt was stitched into every line of his body.

               What in the hells was happening?

               “Cloud, please,” Sephiroth said again, gesturing with one hand to the second couch. Cloud moved slowly, ready to pull away at the first sign of anger. He faltered and stopped in place when Sephiroth sighed again in exasperation. The General had to wave him on for the blond to continue, both sitting at the joint of the L-shaped couch configuration. Cloud sat on the edge of the seat, ready to flee, staring adamantly at his knees.

               “Cloud, I—… I owe you an apology.”

               Cloud’s head shot up, confusion written large across his face.

               Sephiroth melted a little further.

               He reached out, hesitated for a second, and then placed his hand on Cloud’s knee.

               The blond was reeling.

               “It took a lot of courage to say what you did,” Sephiroth started, clearly picking his words carefully. This time, it was his turn to avoid eye contact, looking at his hand placed on Cloud’s knee as if he couldn’t decide if he should leave it or withdraw. “You left yourself open and vulnerable and were as honest as I had ever asked you to be. The way I reacted is not a reflection on you, I need you to understand that. You were not too much or not enough. You did nothing wrong.”

               The silence stretched as Cloud struggled to wrap his mind around the idea.

               “I—” Cloud started, faltered, paused. “I wanted to say, then, that—you don’t need to say it back. I don’t want you to, unless you’re sure. I just—I knew, I was sure, so I thought you deserved to hear it. That’s all.” As Cloud spoke, he shrunk in on himself, shoulders curling, eyes sliding down, voice trickling off into nothing.

               As the moment stretched into silence, Cloud was sure he’d spoken wrong again.

               “I have done nothing to deserve you,” Sephiroth said, something near awe in his tone.

               Cloud’s eyes shot back up.

               Sephiroth slid off the couch, kneeling in front of Cloud, taking his face between his palms.

               “You give so much, and all I do is take, and I cannot express how sorry I am for that,” Sephiroth began.

               “No,” Cloud interrupted, balling his hands into nervous fists. “You don’t, you’ve been wonderful, I—”

               “I haven’t, Cloud,” Sephiroth said, voice dipping low. “That much is clear to me now. The way I acted was both cruel and cowardly.”

               “Seph, I,” Cloud said, trailing off, brows pinched in confusion.

               Sephiroth’s thumb stroked over his cheek as he said, “I was afraid, too disgusted with myself to admit it—I should never have let this stretch out so long, much less run from it to the point that intervention was necessary.”

               “I don’t understand,” Cloud answer, voice a whisper.

               “I was afraid, Cloud,” Sephiroth said, speaking in earnest now. “No one has ever cared for me the way you have. _I_ have never cared for anyone the way I care for you. There was no precedent for me to follow. I didn’t know how to react. What we had grew and grew and when you said you loved me, I realized I was in over my head. You were so brave, and I—I will never know where you found the strength to tell me. How can anyone not be afraid of love?”

               Cloud watched Sephiroth, a quiet look of hope building on his face, tempered by flashes of fear that this was too good to be true, that if he dared to believe it would all fall around him like a cruel joke. Sephiroth would go to his grave guilty for giving that fear cause to grow.

               “I panicked, and I ran. I didn’t realize what I was putting you through, I was too busy being afraid of how much you cared, and how much I cared in return,” Sephiroth said in a whisper. “It took seeing you tonight, with so much fear and hurt, for me to realize that I was focusing on the wrong thing. Fear of the unknown is natural, and love is certainly not something I’m very familiar with.”

               Sephiroth pressed his forehead to Cloud’s.

               “I know now that I can say with certainty that I love you, Cloud. I’m only sorry it took me so long to realize.”

               The moment hung. Nothing but silence filled the room. For an instance, Sephiroth knew the fear, the doubt, the sick certainty that he had ruined what they had built that Cloud had felt over the past days; the feeling cemented his guilt over his behavior permanently.

               Cloud pulled away, and Sephiroth let him go. It was too little too late—how stupid of him to expect anything else, after the hell he had put Cloud through.

               He should have expected it.

               What he did not expect was Cloud’s hands cupping his face, pulling him forward, pressing their lips together. He failed to return the kiss in his own surprise.

               When Cloud pulled away again, it was with joy on his face, rubbing at watering eyes.

               “You’ll never know how much it means to hear you say that,” Cloud uttered, sniffling lightly.

               Sephiroth smiled, all fondness.

               He took Cloud’s hands and kissed him.

               “I plan to tell you until you tire of hearing it,” Sephiroth answered, the two finally sharing a smile.

               “Hell will freeze over first,” Cloud said, his tone finally finding levity, a hint of playfulness that he thought permanently out of reach.

               “That is a challenge I’m happy to accept,” Sephiroth countered, flooded with relief to see the blond joking, to see proof that what he had done hadn’t destroyed what they had built.

               Ten minutes passed before they heard a knock on the door, quickly followed by Zack poking his head in.

               “Guys?” he called. “How’s it going? I—oh godsdammit you two!”

               Both Sephiroth and Cloud looked up from their place on the couch. Cloud was seated on Sephiroth’s lap, his hand buried in the man’s silver hair. Sephiroth’s hands were on Cloud’s hips, holding him firmly in place. From the very kiss-swollen appearance of their lips, it was clear what had drawn out their “conversation” so long.

               “I leave for five minutes and you two are going at it like you have magnet lips!” Zack joked, snatching a shoe from the ground and tossing it at the pair in retribution. Sephiroth caught it lazily out of the air, a pleased look on his face.

               He joked to cover his relief—he had spent over ten very long minutes certain that the two would never repair what had been broken, and that he would be left to juggle the pieces. He felt lighter than he had in a long time as the fear lifted.

               “Apologies,” Sephiroth said, rising to standing, lifting Cloud along the way. The blond laughed, wrapping his legs around Sephiroth’s waist to avoid falling, as if Sephiroth would let that happen.

               “Get out of here,” Zack answered, failing to hide the laugh in his voice as he stepped aside, letting the couple pass.

               Sephiroth paused in the threshold, looking at Zack.

               “Thank you,” he said, tone earnest, sincere.

               “Yeah, you owe me big,” Zack joked, slapping Sephiroth on the back.

               The two shot him matching grins before exiting into the hallway, looking utterly unhurried as they went down the hall to Sephiroth’s apartment.

               Zack stood in his doorway, his arms folded, leaning against the frame, watching them go. Despite the hassle, he couldn’t complain.

               After all, all’s well that ends well.


End file.
